


Give and take

by RussianWitch



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Dysfunctional Relationships, M/M, Mind Games, Oral Knotting, Oral Sex, Rimming, Slice of Life, sort of fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 16:44:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2739698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianWitch/pseuds/RussianWitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sort of adults, sort of getting together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give and take

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd

The bushes rustle in warning long before a piece of shadow breaks through them at high speed. Chris gets an impression of flashing fangs and glowing eyes but can only trace the wolf by the drift of autumn leaves it sends into the air while stopping without his night vision goggles.

When he takes a couple of steps closer, the shadows resolve into a shape that's jumping around snapping it's impressive fangs at the last leaves drifting through the air. Chris can't swallow a laugh and the wolf stops at once sticking it's muzzle haughtily in the air.

Chris' hands still tighten around his rifle as they have always done faced with a werewolf, even if he knows that Peter is mostly benign these days. He stands there tongue lolling in a way that Chris has learned to recognize as the man's car salesman grin, it translates to wolf surprisingly well. Chris has to resist the urge to point this out to the beast since it can't argue back at the moment.

"Anything on the boarders?" He asks instead hating the fact that he's been rubbing elbows with a pack long enough to be able to interpret wolf body language well enough to expect answers to moderately complicated questions. Peter barks and wags his tail circling Chris and bumping into his legs a couple of times. From the lack of urgency Chris makes out that everything is as it should be. Completing another circle Peter barks at him and lunges forward dropping his upper body and waving his tail like a flag in the air. Playful as a puppy the fangs of a killer snap inches from Chris' leg before Peter jumps away sending another drift of leaves in the air.

Peter doesn't play, not that Chris is aware of and certainly not on patrol. He'd have heard about it from the rest of the pack if their pet psychopath had started acting weirder than usual. It could just be that Peter is simply relaxing a bit more, they've all been after more than a month of quiet. Still, he's pretty sure that Peter acting like an overexcited puppy is a new one.

When Peter comes closer again he kicks up a drift of leaves right into the wolf's face and is rewarded with the sight of the predator viciously attacking the drift. He puts his rifle on his back freeing up both his hands to push the wolf's muzzle away the next time Peter comes too close chasing after a stray leaf.

Peter busies himself with killing leafs until there is nothing but dust that gets up his nose leaving him with a sneezing fit that ends with him stilling on his haunches looking stupefied. The absurdity of it elicits another laugh from Chris. He should be telling Peter to focus and stop acting like an idiot already, instead he pokes at the grass with his foot until he feels a suitable branch he can kick into the bushes to distract the wolf then sets off in the opposing directing at a decent clip. Behind his back he can hear the wolf's happy bark and the pursuit starting. Chris isn't under the illusion that he can outrun the wolf, but he can certainly give it a workout.

Peter's occasional happy barks come closer and closer circling him as he goes. Chris can hear the wolf barging through the undergrowth uncaring that the sound of his pursuit carries for miles. He doesn't pay attention to where he's going, just enjoys the speed and the challenge of it. Peter doesn't bother to even attempt to bring him down for a good long while, not until Chris starts slowing down a little.

They have just burst out into a clearing when the large wolf body finally does slam into his back taking Chris off his feet. Lush grass softens his fall, but Chris grunts when the rifle slams into his spine. He pulls the quick release on the rifle strap leaving it lying where it falls as he rolls away from snapping fangs. When the wolf jumps at him again, he manages to catch the muzzle in his hands, bringing up his feet to keep the creature as far from him as possible. Peter wiggles in his grasp, pushes Chris' knees apart and drags himself up Chris' body until Chris' legs are hooked across the wolf's flanks entwining them together.

The wolf yields, allows Chris to roll them and arches into Chris' grip. The move is more man than wolf, it sends a rush through Chris: the feeling of so much strength and viciousness submitting to him, even in play is a heady feeling.

Not that it lasts long, as soon as Chris leans in enthralled by the gesture of surrender, Peter rolls them again snapping his teeth right in Chris' face. He strains to keep Peter's jaws from his throat, but can't control Peter's tongue snaking out to lick across his face slobbering all over him every time he manages to gain even an inch. He doesn't know how long they spend rolling around in the grass before Chris manages to untangle himself and finally push the wolf away. He throws off his jacket and reaches for the rifle seeing a glint in the wolf's eyes he doesn't like: the next time Peter lunges, Chris' shirt ends up ripped in two places. Darting away Peter circles him looking pleased with himself.

"Really?" Chris questions, "Very mature! Is this how alpha's assert their authority? No wonders most werewolves run around naked." Peter lunges, and after another short tussle Chris is completely shirtless, pinned against a rock. He buckles and curses trying to get free but only manages to turn himself on his stomach. Chris only stills when he feels fangs on the back of his neck. He tenses by habit and to his surprise Peter pulls back at once. He feels a rough tongue scrape across his skin as the wolf whines softly. He doesn't notice that he's arching into the hot body pinning him down until he feels a something hot and heavy grinding against his ass for a moment before he's abruptly released.

The wolf looks suspiciously contrite as he sits down a couple of feet away. Chris can't remember ever seeing that particular expression on Peter's muzzle or face for as long as he's known him. He scrambles to his feet readying for an attack that doesn't come, instead Peter shuffles back when Chris steps closer. Chris tries again only to be met with the same result. The wolf seems intent on keeping a distance between them while trying not to look like he's backing away. They do the ridicules dance around half the clearing until Chris gets tired of the game. Peter doesn't look like he's going to stop any time soon, or explain why he's gotten spooked all of a sudden for that matter. So Chris goes looking for his jacket and rifle picking both up and finding a nice spot under a tree to wait for Peter to make up his mind. Standing still Chris is reminded that it's autumn and the night isn't particularly warm any longer. From the other side of the clearing Peter barks his dissatisfaction but doesn't come any closer, Chris sees hints of glowing red eyes in the darkness as Peter paces and in a way they are a comfort.

They aren't expected to check in with anyone before morning. He could take off and go home, forget whatever it is that has Peter acting strange. Only home is an empty house and at least here he has some company as questionable as it is. The forest is peaceful and nice despite the chill, the wolf is surprisingly good to have around when not being a shit. Chris finds that he trusts the beast enough to close his eyes and relax against the trunk of the tree. He just wants to rest his eyes, as long as Peter is near he can afford to rest his eyes for a moment. Chris isn't sure how long he sits like that, it could be minutes or more than an hour, but when he opens them again Peter is lying next to his leg, his nose less than an inch from Chris' ankle. He shifts and sees the wolf's ears twitch, when he moves his leg so that it rests against Peter's muzzle the wolf doesn't pull back. After a few moments he even inches closer until Chris can reach down and ruffle the fur on Peter's brow.

The wolf looks like he's holding his breath, his ears flattened, his whole body radiating that he isn't a threat at least at this particular moment. Chris pets the shaggy fur, traces the wolf's brow and down the muzzle to the twitching nose privately amused to feel Peter's tail wagging against his foot. Peter's tongue darts out to swipe across Chris' wrist and Peter pulls back like he expects a reprimand. That's definitely not Peter's usual behavior, but Chris has already decided not to care so instead of leaving Peter to his own insanity he leans down to haul the surprised wolf closer until he's draped across Chris' legs. The wolf stares at him with round eyes wary and hopeful, the look resonates with something deep in Chris' chest he thought to be dead by now.

"I won't bite you know." Chris tells Peter scratching behind an ear until the wary look subsides and he feels the wolf relax across his lap. His jacket is nosed aside, a cold nose pokes at his ribs and makes Chris jump, but then both of them settle: the wolf a heavy, warm blanket that lulls Chris to sleep.

Above the trees the sky is already lightening when Chris wakes up, he's half draped across something soft, warm and breathing. It's the breathing that wakes him up fully, he hasn't woken up with someone since Victoria and now he's sleeping in the forest using a werewolf for a body-pillow. The wolf is still asleep looking content despite having a hunter sprawled all over him. A voice that sounds suspiciously like Gerard drifts up from the dark of Chris' mind listing all the things he should be doing instead of cuddling closer. His fingers run through the wolf's thick fur something his amusement when Peter lets out a pleased huff.

For an opportunistic psycho Peter makes a good pillow, and good company when he isn't running his mouth. Chris shifts a little and looks down at sleepy blue eyes blinking up at him: Peter is obviously not a morning person, Chris can't resist tapping Peter's nose and watching the wolf go cross-eyed trying to follow Chris' finger. When Peter realizes that Chris is making fun, Chris is licked sloppily across the mouth in revenge. Stunned he watches the hazy look in Peter's eyes disappear replaced with shock. Chris lands on his ass when the wolf jumps up shaking him off. There is suddenly half a clearing between them and Chris finds that he hates it.

"Good morning to you too sunshine." He snaps, annoyed by the loss of the heat source and grimacing when his body lets him know that he is too damn old to be sleeping in the forest for no good reason. He glances at Peter again who seems to droop from the tips of his ears to his tail looking downright pathetic. Chris considers reaching out, getting the wolf to talk about what the hell has gotten into him but that would mean forcing Peter to change and Chris doesn't feel up to that right then.

"I have no idea what your game is Peter, and I don't care as long as isn't a threat to the pack." Chris glances up at the sky, with the sun now visible above the horizon he can orient himself. The wolf growls his displeasure and takes a couple of steps closer, Chris' hands itch to reach out and try to grab the beast again. He hadn't bothered to pay attention while sprinting through the Preserve that night, but it turns out that they haven't run off that far or just have been running in circles. He picks up his rifle and jogs down to the parking lot ignoring Peter shadowing him all the way.

He'd left his car at the Hale house the night before: now that he has standing permission it's less inconspicuous than hiding the car in the woods. The drive home is uneventful enough, the streets still empty since the town is still waking up. His body starts demanding coffee as he locks up his weapons, he texts the all clear to the pack as he waits for the water to boil for a cup of instant. The coffee almost makes him feel like a human being, the shower finishes the job except for the stray thoughts of a warm, strong body next to his own wrapped around him in comfort and pleasure. Chris wraps a hand around his dick, and tries not to think about anyone or anything. The water drowns out the sounds of the empty house as rivulets run down his body teasing across Chris' skin adding to the sensation of his own stroking.

He doesn't want to be thinking about Peter while jacking off. Chris doesn't want to think about anyone really, but especially not about Peter. Since his second resurrection Peter had been as helpful as he is likely to get, hanging around with the pack and even going as far as volunteering to patrol on occasion. Chris has noticed that those occasions often coincide with his own turns on patrol.

The only two adults with a clue trying to keep the kids as safe as they can for all manner of supernatural creatures. Anyone but Peter, and Chris wouldn't have had a second thought about their actions: anyone can try to repent after all, a wolf must have a pack to survive even one like Peter. But trying to endear himself to the pack through the local hunter? That raises suspicions about ulterior motives and long term Bond-villain type plans.

He thinks about Peter's taunting smile and his dick swells in his hand. Werewolves seem to win the genetic lottery nine times out of ten where looks are concerned, Chris certainly isn't immune to Peter's looks. Idly Chris thinks that if Peter wasn't a werewolf, if Chris could trust him...Not that Peter being a werewolf had stopped Chris from falling asleep in the forest, it had been welcome in fact in the chill of the night. In fact Chris can't help thinking about wrapping himself around the wolf in human form. The wolf had taken every opportunity to lick his face, it hits Chris that the licking is the wolf version of kissing. The thought sends him over the edge spilling down the drain.

Leaning against the shower wall Chris wonders if Peter is counting on Chris not to notice or just not to know what the gesture means. He isn't sure how he feels about being the focus of Peter's affection, then decides that as long as Peter only gets affectionate as a wolf, he'll be happy not to overthink the situation but just enjoy it. Unfortunately, knowing Peter he won't be able to enjoy it for long...

He's considering jerking off again for lack of anything better to do, when a terrified scream shakes the house. Chris is out of the shower, gun in hand and down the stairs before his brain catches up with his reflexes. On the back porch there is no threat, but there is Isaac hyperventilating over a pile of something red, grey and fuzzy. Chris wishes he'd stopped to put on pants, but training being what it is he's left cleaning up a dead rabbit bare assed after depositing Isaac in the living room with a bag to breath in. After cleaning up the porch and dressing Chris follows the trail of blood stretching across the grass, across the back garden to disappear into the trees. Whoever it was, had made use of the local fauna to make his point. Chris is thankful that whoever it was, has been considerate enough to leave their warning behind the house instead of in front of it. Explaining dead animals to neighbors can be more of a pain than explaining the guns.

When he gets back Isaac has calmed down enough to be texting around looking for sympathy and Chris is forced to call both Scott and Derek to make it clear there is no new threat to the town as far as he knows. Dead animals on porches might not be common, but one bunny doesn't mean that a whole pack should be in arms even if Isaac claims to be traumatized for life. Just to be sure Chris does take the carcass into the basement freezer just in case they'll need to do test on it at a later date. Thankfully the rest of the day is far less exciting.

The bunny sets a trend: every morning there is another dead animal at Chris' back door he's forced to clean up. After a couple of weeks of this without anything evil showing it's face Chris is ready to take an extended vacation to anywhere but Beacon Hill preferably wolf unfriendly and lacking teenagers too. The puppies don't know anything anyway but does notice Derek and the twins giving him strange looks when they think no one will notice. Peter, aside from patrolling along with Chris in wolf form, suddenly decides to become spectacularly unhelpful again. Sometimes Chris wonders why he even bothers to count Peter as an adult instead of just another teen.

The deer carcass on his back porch is the final drop. Just looking at it he knows that it will take forever to dress the damn thing and he needs it off the back porch as fast as possible. Isaac isn't of much help, usually Isaac is how Chris prefers his werewolves: damn near vegetarian when not directly threatened, but now he'd have preferred to have someone around who would be of some help without the whining and moaning.

Of course there is also the matter of no longer being able to pretend that the 'offerings' are a fluke or threat from some new form of evil attracted by the Beacon Hills supernatural magnet. On a deer it's easy to see that its throat was ripped out by a wolf, and its been left behind in the shade and out of direct line of sight of any onlookers. Chris can't ignore the signs now that they are getting rubbed in his face, he can only dress the damn deer, dispose of the incriminating evidence of poaching and...go visit Peter.

If there is anything the wolves and Argent's have in common it's long term planning. Neither Derek nor Peter have to work between the insurance money and the pack horde and of the two of them Peter certainly takes full advantage of it. Chris has tracked the wolf to a housing project down town popular with hipsters and young professionals a while ago but he's never had a reason to visit. The opportunity to observe the wolf in his natural habitat is a bonus to having the strange situation between them resolved.

The Peter who opens the door for him, sends Chris' mind into a tailspin: he's unshaved, messy haired and barefoot. The worn shirt stretched too tight across his shoulders proclaims "serial killers are people too" and yoga pants. Pants that have been the bane of Chris' existence since they first got designated as 'fashion', he's had nightmares about his little girl going outside in those things, and now to be confronted by the flimsy material stretching across Peter's thighs - It is enough for Chris to consider turning around and going right back home where he can drink himself into a stupor while polishing his gun to keep from doing something stupid. Unfortunately, his hands do not obey: they push against a nicely firm chest getting the werewolf out of the way.

Three steps further he's standing inside of Peter's apartment listening to the lock snick as it's turned. The back of his neck itches with the werewolf behind him but Chris doesn't turn around. Instead he looks at the minor disaster that is the large living room. A television takes up practically half a wall, several laptops all of them running are scattered about the room and piles of books interspaced with dirty dishes make crossing to the couch the equivalent of going through a mine field.

When Peter slinks into his line of sight again, Chris mutely looks at the wolf for an explanation. He wonders how he's ever mistaken Peter for a confident and overly style obsessed WASP. Peter, judging from the posters carefully framed on the other walls of the living room, is a geek. One of the most feral and psychotic Alphas Chris has ever encountered is a nerd when not going on killing sprees. It's enough to drive a hunter to drink, if Peter's home wear wasn't capable of doing that all on it's own.

Chris' brain helpfully supplies the image of how easy it would be to bend the wolf over the back of the comfortable looking couch. That way he could take his time gnawing at the flimsy material until it is shredded and Chris has unlimited access to Peter's ass. He doesn't even have to wonder about underwear: the damn yoga pants are form fitting enough that it's clear that Peter isn't wearing any. He thinks about fucking Peter until he comes in those damn pants, preferably several times until they are nothing more than a dirty rag.

Peter sniffs the air loud enough to snap Chris out of his thoughts, the blush that creeps across his jaw is unexpected as it is charming. Chris is grateful that his facial hair covers most of his suspiciously pinked up skin.

"Nice setup." He forces out for something to say, Peter raises a very expressive brow folding his arms in front of his chest.

"You can't imagine how glad I am that you approve." He smirks at Chris, "What kind of trouble have the puppies gotten themselves in now?" Peter continues in a martyred tone. Chris suspects that he isn't all that comfortable with having a guest for whatever reason.

"No trouble, I just came by to thank you for your present. It's a nice change from the surprise bunnies, they were giving Isaac a nervous condition." It's cruel, but the girlish screaming and gagging Isaac did every time they found one still amuses Chris to no end.

Peter stares at him for a long while without answering.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Why would I give you gifts? Aside from ripping your throat out if you beg me to kill you, or possibly - " Peter's voice turns lecherous and like a signal flare going off in his brain Chris gets it. He gets Peter, gets the killing spree and the power mongering, the aloof, obnoxious behavior while inserting himself into every feasible activity.

"You have no idea what you're doing!" He groans suddenly feeling every one of his years. Chris smothers the urge to call the sheriff to commensurate about 'young people' these days, he refuses to be 'that' person. Peter shrugs watching him with suspicion while edging over to the couch and the open pizza box there.

"I can throw you out, you know." He point out studying the slices intently, "Despite Derek's opinion on the subject I don't actually have to be at his beck and call constantly. I do have a life outside of your little drama's you know."

"You have pizza and Xena warrior princes." Chris waves at the DVD's stacked next to a space aged media center. Peter shrugs none-committed picking up a slice and starts licking up the strains of melted cheese his agile pink tongue snapping each threat off as he goes.

"I'm sure that Sheriff Stilinski won't mind coming over personally - " Peter mumbles with a mouth full of cheese and sauce his lips already glistening with grease. The way he says the sheriff's name sets Chris' teeth on edge for all the wrong reasons. By the smirk Peter can't quite hide, Chris knows that even with his nose buried in pizza the wolf has no trouble sniffing out Chris' state of mind.

"Peter—" He growls wishing for the right to reach out and claim the contradicting creature for his own. Peter ignores him concentrating on his food. Despite the 'gifts' and the guarding Chris starts to doubt his interpretation of Peter's actions. Only as soon as Peter is done with his slice he leans down to get another in a way that would be casual if it didn't flash Chris his ass.

"Want a bite?" He suddenly offers while Chris tries not to get mesmerized by the butt wiggling in front of him as Peter looks for something between the couch cushions. Chris has to firmly keep in mind that Peter is offering pizza not his ass. He takes a step forward, crowding Peter who freezes still bend over the couch.

"Yeah, sure why not." Chris finally forces out not sure which question he's answering. "Might as well turn the TV on as well." He breathes Peter's scent when he straightens back up and their breath mingles until Chris forces himself step back.

He circles the couch on shaky legs stumbling over a couple of books he hadn't noticed before to drop, thankfully not into the pizza box. Peter chuckles gracefully avoiding the mess to sit on the other side of the couch remote already in hand. As they settle down Chris can feel Peter's eyes on him proving that if Chris isn't completely right, he isn't wrong either. Peter wants something from him, something the wolf can't get from anyone else he knows.

The last of the pizza disappears between winces at the historical inaccuracies and the flimsy plot. Chris discovers that he's actually enjoying himself between watching the camp on screen and the way that Peter gets absorbed despite the absurdity. Watching television and munching the last of the pizza Peter looks younger and far more animated than Chris has gotten used to dealing with him since his resurrection.  It reminds Chris of his suspicions regarding Peter's maturity, werewolves do age differently after all and they've never actually been sure of everyone's ages.

"Don't stare Christopher it's rude, especially considering I let you stay." Peter suddenly says turning to look right at Chris. His lips are still slightly greasy and Chris wants to taste him.

"Peter—" Feels like an idiot for not being able to come up with a comeback. Considering all his suspicions Chris feels like a dirty old man when he removes the box from between them and moves closer to the curled up wolf. If he hadn't been paying close attention he wouldn't see the minute tensing of the muscles that the move elicits or the majority of Peter's attention shifting from the television to himself as Peter keeps acting like he's oblivious.

Going as slow as he can, Chris inches his hand up over the back of the couch until he can close his fingers over the back of Peter's neck. Now that he can feel how tense Peter truly is despite his casual act, all he wants to do is wreck the charade. Surprisingly after a couple of breaths Peter leans into his hand. He tightens his hold digging his fingers into the tight muscles until they loosen and Peter practically melts into his grasp. As far as Chris is concerned that's practically permission to manhandle the wolf into his lap.

Peter gasps and squirms straining Chris' control until he has to use all his strength to pin the wolf's hips just to keep fro coming from the feel of Peter's tight ass moving across his crotch. Chris draws as much oxygen into his lungs as he can to keep control but Peter is making it difficult. The expression on the wolf's face is a mix of lust and challenge, Chris suspect that he isn't even sure what he wants exactly. Unlike Chris who'd love to have permission to shove his dick into Peter's mouth already. He's been dreaming about that mouth since their little nap in the forest.

"I'd ask if that's a gun in your pocket...but in your case that is actually a likely scenario." Along with the words comes a mask that flows across Peter's features obscuring all uncertainty from Chris' gaze.

"Tell me what you want Peter! I'm not—" He still holds onto the conviction that he isn't a monster to take what isn't being offered would make him one...A nasty voice questions what Chris is going to do if it turns out that Peter is incapable of making an adult decision at the moment and he's left rock hard and empty handed.

"Of course you're not, you just play at being one don't you? With your big guns and posies—" Along with the sharp words Peter's hand find's it's way to Chris' side snagging on the hem of his shirt and diving under it to spread across warm skin. He wants to protest but Peter leans closer, licks his lips inches from Chris' own.

"Don't worry Christopher I can handle it. I'll even play the damsel in distress if you're lucky and beg you to stop—" Peter rocks himself in Chris' lap teasing Chris with every breath. He should be saying 'no', pushing Peter away not letting the wolf take over.

Peter offers his mouth and Chris throws his scruples to the wind licking the taste of grease and cheese off the always mocking lips. Peter can still kill him with one bite, he reminds himself, and won't allow Chris to do anything he doesn't want. Chris digs his fingers into Peter's hair, pulls until Peter is forced to lean back baring his throat. He nips up and down the arched throat, scraping his teeth across the Adam's apple and sinks his blunt human teeth deep until Peter whines and shudders. The neck of Peter's shirt stretches surprisingly wide possibly by age or careless use, it's certainly wide enough for Chris to push his hand through to splay his fingers across Peter's chest. In this position Chris can feel Peter's heat speed up under his hand as he nips and sucks on Peter's earlobe.

"Even if you beg me to stop I'll know you're lying." Chris leans back studying the wolf, "I doubt you're going to stop me no matter what I decide to do, are you Peter?" Dark blue eyes flash supernaturally bright, Chris can feel the body in his lap tens as Peter barely strangles a growl. As if he's suddenly woken up from a trance Peter grabs at Chris' hands forcing them away rising off of Chris' lap fast enough that his shirt almost gets ripped before Chris can manage to free his hand.

"Big talk even for a hunter." Chris isn't sure what he's done wrong, but Peter looks spooked under the scowl. He gets off Chris' lap, moves away until the coffee table is between them leaving Chris achingly hard on the couch with no clue what the fuck just happened. "Do you really think that you'll be able to handle me if I wanted you dead? Do you think I'd let you—"

"I thought you liked the idea." Chris snaps not sure if he should be thinking up ways of getting out of there without Peter throwing this incident in his face later, or should push Peter past whatever it is that's holding the wolf from giving in.

"I'm not a toy for your amusement, just because you're used to sticking your dick into someone who'd just as soon bite it off..." Chris doesn't let him finish, he's up like a shot launching a mug at the wolf's head fast enough that Peter actually flinches as he ducks out of the way. Peter's sharp tongue is something Chris can definitely do without with Victoria's death still a raw wound that's barely healed over.

"Stop Peter. This is between the two of us, no-one else!" He steps closer to the wolf who backs away further until he has a wall at his back but doesn't speak. Chris isn't sure they are capable of keeping their pasts out of whatever it is they are heading for, but he figures that they have to at least try. By the way Peter is standing, Chris wonders if, if he had wolf senses he'd be able to smell Peter's fear and indignation. Curious considering Peter had been the one to approach him and now is acting like this is all Chris' idea.

"I'm not looking for a toy. I wasn't looking for _anything_ until you started your little—" Chris can't bring himself to say 'courtship' so he just licks his lips and barrels on. "Besides you're not exactly low maintenance even setting aside the shedding and homicidal urges. If I wanted something easy you definitely wouldn't be on the menu!" He's amused at the affront on Peter's face, resigning himself to the knowledge that it's probably because of the accusation of shedding and definitely not at the accusation of being a killer. Getting himself under control Peter crosses his arms in front of his chest and sticks his nose in the air in a way that makes Chris want to fuck the arrogance out of him.

"I do NOT shed." He's told in a haughtily, much as Chris expected, but Peter doesn't move away when Chris steps closer boxing Peter in by bracing against the wall. He leans down until their lips are less than an inch apart breathing each other's air.

"I want you Peter. Damn if I know why—" He slides his hands down the wall until they are level with Peter's torso, until he can catch the hem of Peter's shirt with his fingers and slowly starts to pull it up. Peter keeps his piece mulishly but doesn't try to stop Chris when he works the t-shirt all the way up. His mouth waters at the prospect of all the well defined planes and angles with his tongue. Chris can see the indecision return to Peter's face and disappear again. He's pushed away, but only so that the wolf can pull the t-shirt over his head leaving him only in the sanity destroying pants. Almost bare Peter is all angles and well defined muscle covered in surprisingly weather roughened, sparsly furried skin.

Chris wants to ask what they are doing again, but no words materialize so he does the next best thing: he drops to his knees burying his face in the flat abdomen. Peter's fingers dig into his hair pushing and pulling as if Peter doesn't know if he wants Chris closer or further away. Peter's skin smells clean: of some kind of fancy soap and natural musk, he smothers himself in the scent ignoring the quivering of muscles he's rubbing against. Feeling childish Chris licks his way to Peter's belly button to fuck it wetly with his tongue.

Peter groans brokenly above him and Chris can feel claws scratching through his hair, far longer than human and dangerous. Chris ignores them as he ignored the groans licking his fill, when Peter finally goes plient under his ministrations he wrenches himself away to finally look up. Peter is looking down at him with glowing eyes and blood dripping from where his fangs have pierced his bottom lip. The sight does more to him than Chris would even admit to himself, his dick jumps in his jeans protesting its confinement instead of setting of all of his hunter instincts. Peter, he concedes, isn't the only one fucked in the head out of the two of them.

Leaning back he pushes at Peter's hip until the wolf gets the message and turns around. Chris tugs at Peter's hips and shoves his knees apart until Peter's ass is thrust out into his face and legs sufficiently apart to give Chris room. He traces the edge of the damn pants considering just ripping them off, but there is tension on Peter's back that he wants gone first. He nuzzles at the small of Peter's back, sucks a bruise there that starts to fade before he's done then nips his way down to sink his teeth into a meaty cheek. Peter growls his indignation but doesn't pull away so Chris ignored the complaint.

"I can't believe you wear these things." He growls biting his way to the other cheek then back again leaving a wet trail across the flimsy fabric. "Did you know that I would be coming? Wear them to taunt me with something I can't have?" He cups Peter's ass spreading the cheeks through the fabric so that he can nuzzle into the furrow until his tongue finds the tight opening hidden there by feel alone. Peter whines and pushes back against Chris' tongue when the older man stabs it at the center of the furled muscle. He sucks and licks through the thin fabric until it's heavy with his spit sticking to Peter's skin. After that it isn't difficult to tear the material with a little help from his fingers, he bites at the rim until it's stand out slightly swollen and red glistening with his spin.

"Such a pretty sight." Chris growls mesmerized by the way the muscle twitches tickled by his breath. He looks up at the arched back debating standing up to trace Peter's spine up to his neck. "Tell me what you want." He demands not willing to blindly take with the amount of questions unanswered between them. Peter twists to look back at him eyes hazy and lips still stained with blood.

"Christopher, this is hardly the time to decide to cultivate an ethical side!" The wolf pushes his ass back and Chris can't resist nipping at the offered flesh again making Peter growl in annoyance. The realization that he wants more from the wolf than just a sexual encounter and companionship on patrol, that he maybe wants affection and, maybe someday in the future something more is not something he expect to ever be having and yet there he is. "Tell me or I stop." He nuzzles at Peter's lower back leaning against Peter's leg to show the wolf how much he's wants to continue.

The wolf remains stubbornly silent and Chris occupies himself with snipping and sucking disappearing bruises in the small of Peter's back as he waits. Chris lets his hands roam Peter's torso memorizing the planes of it. While he's never been particularly patient he's learned over the years, as long as he can keep touching Peter, Chris figures he can hold out for half the night. In some ways just teasing, holding both of them on edge is satisfying on its own. Not that he isn't grateful when Peter finally caves. "I want to ride you, on the couch— _now_!"

Chris is dragged to his feet, Peter not bothering to hide what he is, and thrown on the couch the wolf not far behind. Peter stops to shuck the yoga pants, but Chris stops him pulling him down. "Leave them on, I want to watch you come in these damn pants of yours." The wolf's guttural growl only adds to Chris' arousal, he frees his dick biting his lip when Peter's hot hand closes around the damp flesh the wolf's claws making him shiver.

"Am I supposed to fuck you raw?" He whispers against Peter's lips, nipping the amused grin off of them.

"Hardly." Peter sniffs leaning down to dig between the couch cushions for a bottle. "As much as I enjoy playing rough, there is no reason to be complete savages." The lube is cold on Chris' fingers and he has to take a while to warm it before finding Peter's opening again. He spreads the slick there with light touches working first one then two fingers in, spreading them wider and wider until Peter is rocking back on them and growling for more.

"Speak for yourself—!" Chris growls into the wolf's mouth pulling his fingers out and guiding his dick to the now properly prepared hole. He doesn't get the chance to thrust in, Peter beats him to it taking Chris fully in one go. Peter pins him down snarling as he starts moving, seeking a rhythm that agrees with him. The wolf's ass clenches tight around Chris' dick every time Peter rises up, barely loosening when Peter slams himself back down. Chris is helpless to do anything but run his hands across Peter's torso, and digging his nails into the flesh of Peter's ass.

"Peter—" He groans not sure if he's begging or demanding.

"Still think I don't know what I'm doing?" The wolf taunts leaning in to bite at Chris' lips, and he has to wonder if he hasn't read Peter completely wrong. He wouldn't be surprised, Peter's tendency to hide motives behind motives and schemes within schemes does mess up the usual tells. Sex should do away with that since it breaks down so many of the usual barriers, but Chris can never be sure.

"Still mouthing off after demanding a dick up your ass." He slaps said ass sharply and feels Peter lose rhythm and gasp.

"Better to fuck than to fight isn't it?" Peter bites at his mouth again in a sloppy kiss changing while Chris' tongue is still in his mouth and using his fangs to nip across Chris' throat.

"Is that supposed to be reassurance?" He tries to fight against the wolf's strength but is slammed back against the couch as Peter starts up again forcing Chris' pleasure.

"Do shut up Christopher, I'm in the middle of something here." The wolf snipes, shredding Chris' shirt and catching a tight nipple between his claws. The small pain of claws almost piercing skin has Chris growling and fighting to thrust up into the tight heat almost squeezing his dick off.

Arguing takes a back seat to having the wolf get him off, Chris looks down to where the wet bulge of Peter's dick is poking into his abdomen. The material is practically translucent, it makes Chris hungry enough to consider letting the wolf fuck his mouth letting Chris suck his come off the flimsy fabric. Mercifully Peter does allow Chris to move letting Chris thrust up until the hunter is cursing and barely holding back his release.

"Come for me Christopher!" Peter growls clamping down and depriving Chris of air with a kiss. He has no choice but to obey shaking apart under the wolf's neon gaze. Peter barely lets him breathe until he's empty milked dry by Peter's ass slumped under Peter like a rag doll. The wolf almost purrs in pleasure and Chris has to wonder what he has to be happy about since Peter hasn't gotten off yet.

The question is answered soon enough as Peter gets off of him effortlessly re-positioning Chris on to his back. He's almost happy to have the wolf straddle his chest, to force his jaw open and push his still cloth covered dick into Chris' mouth. "Suck!" The wolf growls fucking in and Chris has no choice but to suck despite still being hazy from just having come himself. Peter is merciless if slow and steady, Chris finds himself choking soon enough, fighting for air and fighting to take more of Peter down his throat.

The thin cotton is in the way and he bites through it soon enough tearing it, savaging the material until there is nothing between him and Peter's dick any longer. Peter's hand is in his hair, not pulling or guiding just petting lightly reminding Chris that he isn't the one in charge. He knows that he's going to be hoarse in the morning, his throat sore from use. Peter's eyes glow down at him, brilliant blue and intense Chris doesn't think he's looked away for a second since Chris has taken him into his mouth.

Peter keeps shifting between human and beta form; he's beautiful, far too beautiful for the monster he is, mesmerizing in ways a human can never be. Absorbed as he is in getting his throat fucked, Chris doesn't even notice the wetness dripping onto his chest until he does and his dick goes hard as if he hasn't just come because it's _him dripping out of Peter_ making a mess of them both. Above him Peter laughs, a laugh Chris has never hears from the wolf before, the sound easy and devoid of all the bitterness that usually hangs around the wolf like a mist. "Like it dirty, don't you? To leave a mess as proof that you've been here, stake your claim just like a—wolf."

Peter thrusts in deep, robs Chris of breath and stills neon eyes glowing watching eagerly as Chris suffocates. He should be fighting, biting something other than lying there _submitting_ to the wolf's will while his fingers claw at Peter's ass shredding the remainder of the fabric covering it and finding the dripping opening. Chris is seeing black stops before Peter lets him breathe again pulling away unexpectedly and completely leaving him bereft. The wolf twists around and Chris is faced with the raw, wet hole he's been thinking about glistening with come and lube. "Take me back into your mouth Christopher. I want to come down your throat and then I might let you clean me up."

Chris has his mouth open to wish Peter and his damn teasing to hell when the wolf lunges without warning swallowing him down to the root. Peter isn't careful, Chris feels his fangs scratching lightly as Peter goes down his tongue lashing Chris' flesh. His dick is in a werewolf's mouth, between a werewolf's fangs and the one thing bothering Chris is that he can't see Peter's eyes and the expression on his face. The ass in front of him wiggles and he remembers Peter's request nosing the heavy balls aside until he can mouth his way down the length and try to suck the head back into his mouth. Peter reaches back helping Chris fill his mouth, his thumb rubbing along Chris' lower lip before going back to fucking his mouth.

Tangled together as they are it's a miracle they don't drop of the couch. Peter surrounds him: his scent, taste and feel eclipsing everything else. His brain short-circuits, and from that moment all he can focus on is filling and being filled, for once trusting in Peter. The wolf growls around Chris' length pulls off to work him over with his rough tongue. Whining around the dick in his mouth not sure if he wants to demand that Peter gets him off again or beg that the wolf fucks his mouth harder.

The dick in his mouth swells, straining his jaw until Chris' air is cut off, his mouth filled with dick almost beyond his capacity to handle. He doesn't even realize that Peter is coming until the wolf curses and slumps onto his chest removing his mouth from Chris' flesh. "Well, I'll be damned—" Chris misses the rest of what Peter has to say concentrating on getting enough air around the obstruction in his mouth. He can feel Peter's come leaning in a steady stream down his throat and tries to swallow eliciting a low drawn out moan from the wolf.

"Well, scratch that off the bucket list." Peter muses nuzzling against Chris' confused dick. "I'm afraid we're going to stuck together for a while." He tries to talk around the obstruction, ask what the hell is going on but it only leads to Peter moaning and sucking the head of Chris' dick into his mouth for a moment. "I'd have warned you, if I'd known this was likely to happen." Chris isn't sure if he believes that, but Peter goes back to playing with his dick and he has to concentrate on trying to draw breath again. "If anything, I'd prefer to knot your ass that way I could see your face, see how much you like being filled." Chris' jaw aches stretched to the limit, the thought of trying to fit Peter's knot into his ass doesn't bare thinking about...as far as Chris can think.

Peter's throat is as tight around him as the wolf's ass was and just as welcoming now that Peter is actively trying to get him off. He can't keep from moaning under the wolf's ministrations and every time he does, Chris feels Peter's reactions: the shivers and moans they, along with Peter's talented mouth, distract Chris enough that he comes again to Peter's happy moans just as the knot in his mouth shrinks enough that he slips out of Chris' mouth letting him breathe and more importantly speak again. "You're going to pay for this Hale!"

He doesn't sound like himself: the words are slurred, still caught up in the pleasure of coming and rough from the abuse of his throat. Peter just laughs lapping at Chris' now oversensitive dick. "What are you going to do? Spank me?" The thought isn't as unattractive as he would like and Peter knows it by the way he wiggles his ass almost in invitation before the wolf gets off of him to sway next to the couch on unsteady legs.

When he turns, Chris can see the indecision before it disappears behind Peter's usual mask. "Now that the fun is over—" He knows what's coming before Peter even speaks the words: he knows that he's being dismissed and finds that he doesn't want to go.

"Get back here." He demands sitting up with a groan, his body reminding him that he's human and not exactly young any longer.

"Really Christopher, while I admire confidence I don't think you can get it up again." Peter rips the remains of the yoga pants off of his legs looking bored, and Chris doesn't believe a moment of it.

"I don't fuck and run." His t-shirt is sticking to his chest dirty and sticky, his jeans shredded in places by Peter's claws. Getting home is going to be a chore, never mind that all the werewolves will be able to smell Peter on him if Chris isn't careful enough.

"Not even after fucking a monster?" The wolf sneers prompting Chris to rise and wrap his arms around the beast.

"Bullshit. If you just wanted to fuck a hunter I wouldn't have to clean rabbit guts off my back poach all this time." He nuzzles at the back of Peter's neck where a mate might leave his or her bite. "You have to decide what you want Peter and keep your story straight. Either you just wanted to fuck a hunter, or despite everything you wanted me." Stepping away is one of the more difficult things he's done in his life. He wants to ignore everything that's coming out of Peter's mouth, drag he wolf back onto the couch, put the series on again and spend the rest of the evening wrapped around each other. What he does is grab Peter's discarded shirt off the floor exchanging it for his own soiled one as he heads for the door picking up his jacket along the way. "I'll wait for you to make up your mind, but I won't wait forever."

He walks out not bothering to look back.

Chris hates that the 'presents' stop along with Peter joining him on patrol. Hates it more that he would have expected considering he isn't completely sure that he even likes the wolf. He hates wishing for some kind of crisis to come to Beacon Hills so that he has an excuse to see Peter at one of the pack gatherings.

Most of the pack gives him a wide berth confused why he's in such a foul mood, only the more perceptive ones and Derek give him pitying looks. Chris wants to curse at them and demand that they stop it already. A part of him still hopes that Peter will come to him again, he'd take even having the man with him in wolf form wrestling in the autumn leaves.

Chris doesn't mean to seek out the clearing where he slept with the wolf by his side, he's on patrol again he stumbles on to it by accident. There are no more leaves on the trees or on the ground, no more drifts for a wolf to play in but the tree is still there for Chris to lean against and breathe wondering what the hell he's supposed to do with himself.

"You really shouldn't be roaming the woods alone in the middle of the night. Who knows what you might find, or what might find you." He can guess which shadow Peter is hiding in, but doesn't bother to check.

"What do you want Peter?" He leans against the tree and wonders if he is getting careless.

"Didn't you tell me you would wait for me?" The wolf steps into the clearing naked as the day he was born looking like a forest spirit safe for the hair product.

"I also said I wouldn't wait forever." Chris leans back further so that the feeling of the rough bark digging into his back can steady him.

"I've had a very interesting conversation today, with my dear nephew of all people." Peter tells him circling closer. "Do you know how disturbing it is to have him of all people try to talk to me about _feelings_?" He shudders theatrically and Chris has to smother a smile. "He almost choked demanding that I either make up with you or help you out of your misery."

"I'm not miserable." At least he wouldn't be if the kids didn't try to sympathize. As much as he'd love the company, romance is for the young.

"Are you really that lonely Christopher?" Peter mocks close enough that Chris can see vapor coming off of Peter's skin.

"Are you really that desperate to prove yourself a monster?" He has his knife out just in time to put it to Peter's throat when the wolf lunges.

"But I _am_ one. After all haven't you and your family hunted my kind for that?" Up close Peter smells of the woods and the promise of winter.

"We should have hunted only those who took life." It isn't an apology, but it's as close as they are ever going to get with all the blood between them. Chris wonders what will be left of him after he's forced to kill Peter if the wolf chooses to attack.

"Doesn't that mean that you should still be hunting me?" Peter leans into Chris' blade hissing when it pierces his skin.

"Just as you should be hunting me." He pulls the blade away unwilling to allow Peter to hurt himself.

"You're no fun." The wolf pouts and Chris tries to knee him in the balls, failing when Peter dances away.

"I don't feel like playing games, Peter. Go find someone else to bait." The way Peter cocks his head reminds Chris of his canine playmate just before he pounces.

"Who said anything about playing?" The wolf whispers but doesn't come closer. It's up to Chris to take a step closer, to reach out to the other man. Peter watches him warily as he raises a hand to trace a sharp cheek bone.

"I told you before: I'm not looking for a fuck."

"Lucky for you, turns out neither am I." The wolf grabs him by the shirt, pulling Chris down into a violent kiss and after some hesitation Chris gives into him cursing himself for a fool.  


End file.
